


Thousand Voices Howling in My Head

by malaxandrite



Series: Brothers All [9]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Deserves Better, Coruscant Guard Dogma, Dogma (Star Wars) Deserved Better, Dogma (Star Wars) Lives, Episode: S06e04 Orders, Fix-It, Medical Procedures, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, brief mention of Kix/Jesse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malaxandrite/pseuds/malaxandrite
Summary: Fives is on the run after coming to Coruscant. Trudging through the effects of whatever Nala Se gave him, he manages to make his way down to the lower levels. There he finds someone he never thought he'd see again, someone he kind of never wants to see again. But the information Fives knows is too valuable to let the opportunity of a familiar face and safety slip out of his hands.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & CC-1010 | Fox, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & Anakin Skywalker, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Dogma & Anakin Skywalker, Dogma & CC-1010 | Fox, Dogma & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, Dogma & CT-6116 | Kix, Dogma & CT-7567 | Rex
Series: Brothers All [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114940
Comments: 35
Kudos: 86





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first published work so please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors or issues with the HTML formatting.  
> This work is part of my clone wars fix-it au, so there will definitely be more to come! The title is from Black Out Days by Phantogram  
> Additional Warning!! There's a super small mention of blood in the first chapter.  
> Mando'a translations are in the end notes

Dogma’s blood turns to ice water when the notification pops up on his HUD. 

**[Warrant For Arrest: ARC-5555, Wanted for attempted assassination of**

**Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine. Considered armed and dangerous,**

**proceed with caution, use any force necessary to secure ARC-5555.]**

Fives. Dogma hasn’t seen or heard anything about him since his arrest, trial, and subsequent transfer to the Coruscant Guard, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think of him; he has the ARC trooper’s words tattooed on his arm for Force’s sake. 

With a flick of his eyes Dogma brings up Fives’ last known location. Senatorial District, deep in the lower levels and heading south. _Kriff_ , that’s Holo’s jurisdiction, the trigger happy di’kut wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill. Biting his lip, Dogma runs for his speeder, starting the ignition, the engine flares to life and he pitches the machine downward. After falling for several agonizing seconds Dogma presses the brakes hard and jolts to a stop. Kicking the speeder into a higher gear, he revs the engine and takes off down a narrow side street. Dogma needs to act fast; he might not be Torrent anymore, but he isn’t going to let a brother go down like this, it isn’t right, no matter what Fives did.

As Dogma takes turn after turn and dive after dive, he can’t help but shudder as the memories of Umbara shadow the edges of his vision. Krell and the massacre he orchestrated never left him, they’re always there, the memories lying just under the surface of his mind. Even thinking about it makes Dogma’s skin itch in a way that makes him nauseous. _Stop it_ , he chides himself. _You’re not there anymore, Umbara is over, Krell is dead!_

Dogma bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to halt the flow of unwelcome thoughts. With a click of his teeth he turns the Guard-wide comm channel on as he enters the Senatorial District. Holo’s men shout over each other in a cacophony fitting for their Lieutenant. Pushing the speeder to go faster, he listens. So focused is he on the stream of voices entering his bucket that he almost misses the man in shiny, white armour staggering down an alley to his right. 

With a curse, Dogma ditches the speeder and hurries after Fives. The ARC is fast, though, and it doesn’t help that everyone in front of Dogma seems to be going as slow as possible. Eventually he manages to catch up with Fives, turning a corner into a dim alleyway and finding himself face-to-face with a blaster. Dogma immediately puts his hands up.

“Stay back!” Fives shouts, shifting away from Dogma slightly, his fingers twitching around the trigger. There is something wrong with Fives’ eyes, Dogma notices as he gets a good look at him. His pupils are dilated and they can’t seem to focus on him, despite Dogma standing perfectly still. 

“Fives,” Dogma says, turning his external audio on, “Fives, you need to calm down. We’ll get this sorted out.” Dogma isn’t very good at comforting people, but he tries to mimic how Fives himself had talked to him and Tup when they first joined Torrent. Fives’ eyes narrow and he sways on his feet. 

“Get away from me!”

“Fives, please. It’s me. It’s Dogma.” Fives’ eyes widen momentarily before he lets out a snarl and tightens his grip on the blaster. 

“Dogma’s dead.” His voice is like ice. Of course they hadn't told Torrent what happened, Dogma realizes belatedly, no one can know that he’s still alive, the only people who know are Generals Windu and Yoda and the Senators on the Judicial Committee that decided his fate. He’s still the same though, his armor has the same paint pattern, he couldn’t bear parting with the design, he and Tup had made theirs together when they were just cadets. At first he’d worn the basic white plates, before his Lieutenant had cornered him with a bucket of paint and a brush and hadn't let him leave until he painted his armor. And, even more than that, he still has his tattoo. Which, now that he thinks about it, might just get Fives to believe him. 

“I’m taking off my helmet.” Dogma says carefully. Slowly, he reaches up and releases the pressure seals on the sides. Fives watches him closely as he removes it, shifting from foot to foot to keep his balance. Dogma can see the exact moment Fives recognizes him, his eyes go big and owlish and the arm holding the blaster droops. 

“Dogma…” Fives breathes. 

“Hi, Fives.” 

“But-- But you were…” 

“I know.” Dogma says, he can hear Guards nearing behind him. “We need to go. I’m not gonna let them get you, okay.” He takes a cautious step toward Fives, a hand outstretched. “I need you to trust me.” Fives stares at it for a long moment before holstering his blaster. By the time the Guards round the corner he and Fives have already disappeared. 

* * *

Fox thinks about ignoring the comm message blinking in the corner of his HUD, but then his eye catches the sender. 1587. Dogma’s old designation. _Kriff_ , Fox swears and brings his speeder to a halt, Dogma only uses that number when it's something important or sensitive or both. 

He brings up the message with a flick of his eyes. It’s an address, and Fox recognizes it as one of the various safehouses the Coruscant Guard has scattered across the city. Being the Sergeant in charge of the safehouses, Dogma has access to all of them. 

Fox really can’t stop for a request like this though, he’s in the middle of a manhunt, Dogma has to know that. Dogma _does_ know that, Fox realizes, and it's the exact reason why he’s comming him right now. 

Swearing his ad to Manda and back he starts the engine and drives. 

* * *

Dogma’s pacing and its putting Fives on edge, but if he sits down then he’ll start shaking his leg, which also puts Fives on edge. It’s a no-win situation, although Dogma isn’t sure there was anything to be ‘won’ to begin with. He keeps looking at Fives out of the corner of his eyes and something about it feels so wrong. He can’t tell if it's the loose, unnatural way he’s sitting in the creaky, plastoid chair in the safehouse’s kitchenette, still trudging through whatever drug’s in his system, his buzzed hair, or the fact that he’s in plain, white plates. Just…everything about the Fives that had shown up on Coruscant seems off.

Dogma busies himself momentarily with checking his messages. Still nothing from Fox, though the small checkmark next to Dogma’s message means he’d see it. That doesn't do anything to settle his nerves though. What if he’d seen it but decided not to come, and he’d brought Fives here for nothing. Then they’d both be arrested, and Dogma can’t do that again, he’d been on trial once before and never again, never--

Behind him Fives shifts in his seat.“You sure this is gonna work?” Fives asks. His voice is slurred from the drugs but his tension comes across clear. Dogma spins on his heel toward him, it feels like his insides are being pickled. His hand itches to salute the ARC trooper, but they’re the same rank now—sergeants—or at least they’re the rank Fives had been when Dogma joined Torrent. He’d seen Fives eyeing the bars on his breastplate earlier, some unreadable emotion in his eyes that made bile rise hot and acidic in his throat. He doesn’t deserve this. This second chance. This rank. He should have died on Umbara with the rest of the brothers who hadn’t been lucky enough to survive Krell’s game. 

Fives crosses his arms, still not looking at him. “Yes,” Dogma says finally, nodding, “I trust Commander Fox completely.” Despite his best efforts, his voice still shakes at the end. 

Fives scoffs, his jaw tightening. “That makes one of us.” Dogma bites his tongue to hold back the reflexive defense of his commander. 

They fall into silence, and Dogma gives into the urge to take off his gloves and pick at his nail beds. It’s an old habit from his early days on Kamino, whenever his hands were idle he’d pick at them till they bled. His trainers had beat it out of him years ago, but it’d come back after Umbara. 

“Hey.” Fives says, voice feeling too loud in the small apartment. It startles Dogma out of old memories enough for him to rip a large chunk of skin off his thumb. The blood wells around the nail, the same color as his armor.

“Y--Yes?” Dogma says nervously. For the first time since they arrived they’re looking directly at each other. Fives’ gaze reminds him of his last moments on Umbara, taking one final look at his brothers as he was ushered onto the shuttle. 

“What happened to you, anyway?” Dogma’s throat goes dry between one breath and the next. His hands twitch at his sides. Fives’ eyes are unfocused and dilated but it feels like the same way he’d looked at him from the execution block. “I mean, Rex told us you’d been sent back to Kamino for decommission. Tup and Hardcase were real upset about it.” Dogma feels like he’s falling apart, but he still hears the implied _but I wasn’t._ Dogma can feel himself starting to shake. Fives looks at him, an eyebrow cocked, expecting an answer. 

“I--I…” It takes his mind several seconds to process the second name. _Hardcase._ Dogma’s eyes widen. Hardcase’s dead. He’d gone with Fives and Jesse. He hadn’t come back. They’d gotten him killed.

The proximity alert for the safehouse flashes red, then green, as the door unlocks. 

Fives is up in a flash, fists raised. Dogma had managed to get the blaster off him, but there’s no way that an ARC trooper is going down without a fight, even one with heavy drugs in his system. Dogma braces himself as the door slides open and Fox steps into the entryway of the apartment. 

Fox sees Dogma first, standing at attention, and then his helmet turns toward Fives. His fingers flick toward the blasters.

_“Buir!”_ Dogma blurts, and he knows he’s got Fox’s attention. The commander’s visor snaps toward his fellow Guardsman, posture tense. He only calls Fox this when things are serious, and Fox knows that. “Buir,” Dogma says, slower, raising his hands, “Fox, _please_ , just listen.” 

“Ad’ika…” Fox says and Dogma can hear the sympathy in his voice. “He tried to kill the Chancellor.” Fox's hands stay at his sides, in the perfect position to pull his blaster if Fives tries anything. Fives shuffles behind him, readying for a fight. 

“I KNOW!” Dogma says, too loud, and everyone freezes. “I know.” Even with all the progress he’s made, Dogma’s mind still screams about treason, harbouring dangerous criminals, how illegal this all is. Fox’s posture softens and he takes his helmet off, worry creasing his brow. 

“D’ika.” 

“Please! Let me do this!” Fox stills and Dogma can feel Fives’ eyes on him. His voice shakes when he speaks again. “On--On Umbara, Fives was the first one to figure it out.” Fox takes in a sharp breath, Umbara is not a subject Dogma talks about often. “The first day after General Skywalker left, he figured it out, that General Kr--”, Krell’s name chokes him like a fist around his throat, “that… that there was something wrong with him. No one believed him. Not Captain Rex. Not Kix. He was the only one who could see it. A third of Torrent had to die for the captain to finally listen to him. It seemed impossible but he was right. He was right and no one believed him.” Dogma has to look down and shut his eyes tight to keep his emotions from blowing him over. He clenches his fists hard, the blood from his thumb sticking warm and wet on his palm. “Fives…He--He doesn’t just say things without backing them up with something. He’s not crazy or a traitor. There has to be some reason he did the things he did. He wouldn’t-- he wouldn’t--” He’s gasping for breath now. 

Dogma’s legs tremble beneath him and when he starts to fall Fox is there, like always, to hold him steady. Dogma clings to his shoulder plates and lets the hot tears flow. “I let him down. I let them all down.” He whispers quietly into the space between his shoulder and neck. Fox rubs a gloved hand over his hair and presses his head further into him, letting Dogma shake in his arms. 

When Dogma can stand on his own again, he pulls back and rubs the heel of his palm over his puffy red eyes. He spares Fives a quick look and immediately regrets it. Fives is looking at him with some sort of melancholy compassion that Dogma is wholly unworthy of.

Fox draws his attention with a hand on his shoulder. “D’ika, _ad_ , go get yourself sorted out. I’ll take care of this. I believe you, I do.” Dogma doesn’t have it in him to protest so he goes, following his buir’s directions to the bathroom. 

* * *

The fresher door closes behind Dogma with a click and Fox turns towards Fives. The ARC trooper meets his eyes and does not falter.

“I need you to understand one thing.” Fox begins, voice harsh and clipped. “The _only_ reason I am giving you the benefit of the doubt is because of _him_.” He jabs a finger at the fresher and Fives flinches as if Fox had hit him. “You get one shot, one chance to explain yourself. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” Fives says, voice slurred. Fox’s nose wrinkles with suspicion.

“Are you drunk?” Fives’ eyes widen as Fox’s narrow and his hands come up to wave in front of himself.

“No, no! That _shabuir,_ Nala Se-- she gave me something before I left Kamino.” 

Fox doesn’t reply, watching Fives for a long moment. With a snarl, he clenches his eyes shut, already dreading what he has to do. “I’m calling your captain.” He taps at his vambrace angrily, scrambling his HP address and using a burner line to comm him. Punching in Rex’s comm number, they wait in tense silence for the captain to pick up.

“This is Captain Rex.” The man’s voice comes through staticy, the ambient sounds of Coruscanti traffic audible, in Fox’s peripheral he sees Fives perk up.

“Captain, this is Commander Fox.” 

“C-Commander!” The muffled noises of the city lessen some, as Rex goes somewhere more quiet. “How can I help you?” 

Fox doesn’t beat around the bush, “I have your man. He’s in one of my safe houses now.” He and Fives listen to Rex sputter through a series of nonsense syllables. “ _Captain._ ” 

“Y--Yes, Commander?” 

“He’s been drugged.” Fox looks back at the ARC trooper. “He says he has information for you.” 

“Is he okay? Can I speak to him?” 

“You can see him here, at the safe house. I’ll send you the address.” 

“Thank you, Command--”

“REX! Where’d you go? We gotta keep looking.” The unmistakable voice of General Skywalker comes through the comm. 

“I’m here, sir!” Rex calls back, then, to them: “should I bring my general?” Fox takes a deep breath, he doesn’t particularly like dealing with Jedi. He thinks briefly of Dogma, still holed up in the fresher. Rex and General Skywalker had petitioned for his release—they certainly didn’t hate him for what had happened—but it's still a toss-up as to whether Dogma wants them to know he’s alive. He looks back at Fives again. The ARC trooper nods emphatically, a pleading look in his eyes. “Yes, if he wants to come.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” 

“I’ll send you that address.” 

“Thank you, Commander.” 

“Hey, Rex, who’r’ya talk--” Rex cuts the line. 

Fox lets out a breath, sending him the address and closing the comm panel on his vambrace. “They’ll be here soon.” He says to Fives, “I’m going to check on Dogma,” he starts toward the ‘fresher, then thinks better of it. “ _Don't_ get up to open the door, stay **_put_ **! That’s an order, trooper.”

“Yes, sir.” Fives says, blinking fog out of his eyes as he leans back in his chair. With that Fox leaves him to go check on Dogma. 

He turns the old fashioned doorknob, it's unlocked, which is a good sign. “Dogma, I’m coming in.” He says through the door before entering. Dogma’s sitting on the lid of the toilet, head in his hands. Fox’s heart aches. He kneels in front of him and takes his shaking hands in his own. “D’ika, Captain Rex and General Skywalker are coming to talk to Fives.” 

Dogma looks up at him, eyes wide and glassy. “Did you…did you tell them…” He struggles to get the words out and Fox takes him by the back of the neck and brings their foreheads together.

“No. If you want them to know you’re alive, then you tell them. If you don’t, you can just stay in here till they leave.” 

“No,” Dogma says, pulling back and wiping at his eyes, “I want to be out there. I--I need to be out there. General Skywalker hates you.” Fox lets out a weak chuckle.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” 

“Yeah, I’ll just keep my helmet on.” Fox allows a small smile to form on his face, Dogma’s come so far from the terrified, self-sacrificial, slightly too-young vod Senator Amidala asked him to help. He reaches a hand up to ruffle his hair.

“Do you want to go back out now?” Fox asks. Dogma shakes his head.

“No, I-- let’s… give me a moment.” Dogma sighs defeatedly, leaning his head back and scrubbing the salty residue from his cheeks. Fox feels the urge to comfort his ad, tell him that he did well today. But he knows how delicate of a situation this is. It’s baffling, when he thinks about it; Dogma willingly sought out and protected a vod that he almost had executed, a vod whose words keep him up at night. 

Letting out a deep breath Dogma stands, turning to look at himself in the mirror, hands smoothing out the hair that Fox had ruffled. His eyes crinkle in fondness, for all the grief Dogma gets about his “receding hairline”, he keeps the shaved bits meticulously maintained, going to great lengths to keep them razor sharp and perfectly straight. He turns on the water and splashes himself in the face a few times, then meets Fox’s eyes in the mirror as he dries his face with a towel.

“Ready?” Fox asks.

“Yeah,” Dogma says, shaking out his hands to psych himself up. With a nod, Fox moves back toward the door and opens it, and the both of them return to the main room. 

Fives’ head jerks up and he lets out a wince, clutching the side of his head. Dogma curses and runs into the kitchen. “I completely forgot you got drugged!” 

Fives groans, “good to know you care about me so much.” Dogma _tsks_ at him and returns, a med-kit in his arms. He sits down at the table next to Fives and begins rummaging through it, letting out a small “aha!” when he finds what he’s looking for.

“Take off the plates on your left arm,” he instructs, Fives frowns slightly but does as he’s told. Once he’s done, Dogma rolls his blacks up to his shoulder. “This is an all-purpose antitoxin that will bind to whatever you got drugged with,” he says, holding up a syringe filled with clear liquid. Without further ado, he sticks the needle into Fives’ upper arm, who hisses and glares at him. “You should feel better in a few hours.” Dogma pulls away and begins packing up the med-kit.

Fives watches for a moment, before rolling his sleeve back down and putting his armor back on. “Thanks,” he mumbles, not looking up. Dogma doesn’t either, humming and nodding in his direction. 

Fox watches the whole interaction from next to the small holo-vision. He can’t say he’s displeased with their overall treatment of each other. From everything he knows about Fives, he expected him to react violently. Fox bets it's a combination of whatever effects the drugs have on him, desperation, and the shock of seeing Dogma alive that are keeping him so subdued. Once Dogma’s finished with the med-kit, he returns it to its place in the kitchen and comes to stand next to Fox. All that’s left for them to do is wait until Captain Rex and General Skywalker arrive.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out, writing this from Rex's perspective was harder than I thought it would be  
> Content Warning: there is a super brief mention of suicide and self-harm
> 
> Mando'a translations are in the end notes

Rex is definitely breaking several traffic laws with how fast and recklessly he’s driving. But he still feels like he’s going too slow, that by the time they get to Fox’s safehouse Fives will be gone. Growling, he revs the engine and passes someone, jostling General Skywalker and making him wind an arm around Rex’s middle. 

“Tell me what he said again.” Rex’s general shouts in his ear over the traffic.

“I already told you, he said that Fives’d been drugged and that he had information for me.” 

“What if it’s a trap? A setup?” When Rex had told him about the comm-call, he’d unsurprisingly, been suspicious. General Skywalker and Fox don’t have the best history.

“Does it feel like a setup, sir?” 

“I…everything feels wrong nowadays.” General Skywalker says mournfully. Rex understands, first Ahsoka left the Jedi—not even stopping by the barracks to say goodbye—then the incident with Tup, and now Fives. The Jedi Council and the Chancellor say that they’re winning the war, but it feels like everything is falling down around them. 

“Are you sure we can trust Fox?” 

Rex’s brow creases, “Fox has changed a lot since we were cadets, and I don’t know how much of that is him and how much is Coruscant, but I don’t think we have any other choice at this point.” General Skywalker sighs and Rex feels it against his back.

“How much longer then?” 

“Should be a few more minutes, sir.” 

The building the address leads them to is an average-looking, grey apartment building. They enter and the Ithorian working at the reception desk doesn’t even look up. They hurriedly take the stairs to the fourth level. Once outside the door, Skywalker unclips his saber. 

“Sir, what are you doing?” Rex asks worriedly, instinctually looking over his shoulder as his hands automatically go to his blasters. 

“Breaking down the door?” He looks at him as if it's obvious. 

Rex huffs. “Or we could try knocking.” General Skywalker looks down at the weapon in his hands, then back up at Rex. He seems suddenly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing, and clips the lightsaber back onto his belt. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Rex knocks. It takes a worryingly long time for the door to open. But once it does, they’re ushered inside by a Coruscant Guard trooper. Rex bowls his way past them once his eyes land on Fives, slumped in a chair with Fox standing watch next to him. General Skywalker follows him, pausing briefly next to the other trooper, eyeing him oddly. 

Rex whips off his helmet, setting it down on the small table, and kneels before Fives. 

“Hey, Captain.” Fives says softly. Rex takes his chin between his fingers, tilting his head up to get a better look at him. His pupils are blown wide and a thin layer of sweat covers his brow.

“What happened to him?” He asks Commander Fox, but he isn’t watching them. Instead the commander is staring at something over Rex’s shoulder, one of his hands hovering above his thigh holster. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Rex stands immediately, turning around to see whatever’s got Fox so on edge. 

General Skywalker has the other Guardsman backed up into the corner by the door, they’re so close their chests are almost touching. The general says something, though Rex can’t make it out, and reaches up for the Guard’s bucket. Rex suppresses a sigh, this isn’t why they’re here. He goes to get his attention, but a hand around his wrist stops him. Rex looks down, it’s Fives. He meets his weary gaze and Fives shakes his head slowly. 

The hiss of pressure seals releasing makes Rex turn back toward the pair at the door. Slowly, General Skywalker lifts the trooper's helmet. Then he breathes in sharply, taking a half step back as he lets the helmet clatter to the ground. 

Fives releases his grip around Rex’s wrist and he rushes forward. The general moves back another step and Rex feels his legs buckle underneath him. 

_ Dogma.  _

Here.

Alive.

Not dead, like they’d been told by the Senate and the Council.

“Dogma…” Rex breathes, his pulse thundering in his ears. In front of him, General Skywalker’s hands have started to shake. 

“H-How?” General Skywalker takes a step toward him, reaching out, and something wild and fearful flashes in Dogma’s eyes as he pushes himself even farther into the corner. 

Commander Fox steps forward. “This isn’t why we’re here.” He says, short and clipped, getting in between the General Skywalker and Dogma. He picks up Dogma’s helmet from where it had fallen and hands it back to him, though he doesn’t put it on. Fox’s face is stern, a warning, and General Skywalker’s shoulders tense when his gaze falls on him. 

“Right,” Rex says, voice shaky. He knows he should start talking to Fives, but he can’t take his eyes off Dogma, still tucked into the corner. To his right, General Skywalker clenches his fist and breathes out. Rex thinks that he might let it go—and wouldn’t that be a first—but his head raises back up to look at Dogma. The trooper swallows and Rex immediately goes to grab General Skywalker by the shoulder, however improper it might be. 

“Why didn’t you come back?!” General Skywalker asks, incredulous and wounded. “You could’ve-- we could’ve…” 

Rex tugs him back away from Dogma and Fox, “Sir!” 

“He didn’t have a choice.” Fox bites out, eyes boring into General Skywalker.

“Yeah, ‘cause  _ you _ didn’t give him one!” He turns on Fox, jabbing at his chest with his finger. Fox doesn’t visibly react, but Rex knows him well enough to see how furious the gesture makes him. Something scrapes against the floor behind him and Rex turns, finding Fives standing up from his seat on wobbly legs. 

“ _ Osik _ !” He says under his breath, rushing to help hold his brother up. “Easy. Easy, Fives.” By the door, the general has kept up his protesting. Having pressed closer to Fox, whose eyebrows are angled down, face twisted into a snarl. 

“--do not pull that shit with me, commander. We all know how corrupt you are! First Ahsoka, and now you’re stealing troopers.  _ My _ trooper!” That, more than anything, seems to break Fox. He rears back, seemingly ready to lunge at the general, but Dogma stops him with a steady hand on his shoulder.

“General,” Dogma interjects, drawing both his and Fox’s attention. “Commander Fox is right, I had to go to the Coruscant Guard.” Skywalker turns fully toward him, no less tense. “When I was…released, one of the conditions was that I could no longer serve under a Jedi,” Dogma looks down, voice growing small. Then, his face pinches, anger visible. “And…and I wasn’t  _ your trooper _ , you gave us over to General Krell.” Rex, Fives, and the general all take a step back, Dogma’s words feeling like a physical hit to them. Fox turns to Dogma, shock clear on his face.

“ _ D’ika… _ ” Fox says quietly, turning and pressing a hand to the center of his breastplate. Rex can’t tell if it’s a reprimand or if he’s impressed.

Dogma breaths out in an attempt to calm himself, clenching and unclenching his hands. “We can talk about what happened to me later, right now you need to listen to what Fives has to say.” He looks up and nods in Fives’ direction. General Skywalker turns, his expression a mix of guilt and surprise, and finally looks at the other trooper in the room. 

“General,” Fives says, attempting to salute even as his legs start to shake under him. Rex pushes insistently on his chest, urging him to sit, but Fives holds strong. And as soon as General Skywalker gets close enough, he wraps his arms around the both of them and pulls them into a hug. 

“Oh--” The general says, clearly surprised by the display.

“Fives, what--” 

Fives squeezes them harder, almost to the point of being painful, “Don’t say anything about Tup, I haven’t told Dogma what happened yet.” Fives whispers, his head tucked in between theirs. General Skywalker takes in a sharp breath and Rex’s stomach drops. 

He pats Fives on the back, and whispers back “okay.” Fives releases them and immediately collapses back into the chair, breathing heavily, the hug having taken the last of his strength from him. 

Rex looks up at Fox and Dogma. “Is--Is he going to be alright?” 

To his surprise, it’s Dogma who responds. “He’s been drugged, I gave him an antitoxin earlier, you’re just seeing the worst of it now.” 

“Okay,” General Skywalker interjects, Rex recognizes the tone as his  _ General Kenobi told me I have to be civil during this meeting  _ voice, “would someone like to explain to me why one of my best men just tried to kill the Supreme Chancellor!” He looks at Commander Fox and raises an eyebrow.

“You’d have to ask him, sir,” Fox replies coolly.

“You don’t know?” 

“I wasn’t going to question him without his Captain and General present.” 

“Why didn’t you just take him back to the Guard detainment center, if you were just going to question him? 

“Dogma was actually the one who found him and brought him here.” Fox says, and everyone turns toward the trooper, the room going silent.

“Yeah, why did you save me?” Fives asks. 

Dogma gulps, eyes nervously shifting between all of them. “Well…I just-- I…” 

“That’s not important now,” Fox says, “we need to be focusing on Fives.” After they’ve all turned back to him, Rex sees Fox rub the back of Dogma’s neck comfortingly. 

“Well,” General Skywalker says, placing his hands on his hips and looking at Fives expectantly.

“I didn’t try to kill him--” 

“Then why were there shots fired?!” the general interrupts.

“They weren’t mine!” 

“Then who--” 

“General, if you’ll just  _ listen _ _!_ ” General Skywalker looks like he’s about to say more, then shuts his mouth with a huff and crosses his arms over his chest grumpily.

“Okay,” Fives sighs, “it all started on Kamino. That ‘biological weapon’ the Kaminoans were worried about, it was actually these chips that they put into our heads.” Fives begins, pointing to the bandage on his temple. “They can override our free will and make us do things. That trooper’s chip malfunctioned and that’s why he killed General Tiplar.”

“Fives…” Rex sighs, Ringo Vinda had gone wrong in every possible way, but this is just impossible. “I’ve had countless headscans and they’ve never shown a chip in my brain.”

“That’s because they’re hidden!” 

“They’re hidden…” General Skywalker repeats, suspicious.

“Yes, I swear. Mine didn’t show up on any scan either, the med-droid had to access this old Kaminoan programming to find it.” 

“Fives, this is ridiculous--” 

“Sir, please, there’s more! The things the chips can make us do…there is this set of contingency orders…I didn’t get a look at all of them, but one was to have us kill the Jedi!” 

“Maybe we should wait till you’re sober to do this?” General Skywalker asks, and Rex agrees.   
“I’m not lying! And I’m not crazy, I know what I saw!” 

“Vod, c’mon--” 

“They can make us do anything?” Fox interrupts. Rex and General Skywalker turn to look at him. Fox’s face is ashen, eyes wide but unseeing, and his hands have started to shake at his sides. Rex immediately tenses, he was never close with Fox, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know the man. And Fox never gets this distressed, Alpha-17 said he and Wolffe are the type to bottle things up, rather than actually express his emotions like Bly and Ponds. With Cody being the balance between them. 

“I…I don’t know for sure, but there were a lot, so…possibly, yeah.” Fives says cautiously and Fox shakes harder.

“Fox?” Dogma asks, moving to stand in front of the commander with his hands on his shoulders. Fox immediately latches on, gripping Dogma’s forearms with such strength that Rex fears the plastoid might shatter. His eyes move jerkily over to meet Dogma’s, and the latter breathes in sharply. “ _ No _ …you don’t think…” 

“Dogma,” Fox says and his eyes grow watery. The sight makes Rex’s fist clench. Dogma’s face hardens, expression tightening as his eyes squeeze shut.

“Fives,” Dogma says, voice harsh, and turns to meet his eyes. Dogma’s gaze is frighteningly serious, and Rex feels pinned by it, even though he’s not the one being looked at. He hears Fives gulp. “Why exactly did you go to the Chancellor?” 

“I…” Fives’ mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words, and Dogma's gaze does not waver. “The…the data in the chip…Palpatine’s name was on it. He has access to everything.” Rex hears General Skywalker make a startled sound in his throat. 

“Why would… I mean—assuming this is true—why would Chancellor Palpatine have control of something that can take over your minds and force you to kill the Jedi?” General Skywalker asks.

“I don’t know, sir. That’s why I was--” 

“No…no, no, _ NO _ _!_ ” Fox says, wilting in Dogma’s arms. At Fox’s exclamation, tension coils down Rex’s arm and he digs his nails into his palm. Without thinking he goes to him. When he comes into Fox’s field of vision, his head whips up and the motion causes a tear to overflow and slide lazily down his cheek. 

“Fox…” Rex says softly. His hands itch to reach out to him, but Rex doesn’t know how to comfort him. Fox looks away with a whimper, a mournful look in his eyes and rests his head on Dogma’s shoulder plate, tremors racking his body.

Dogma walks them back toward the couch, sitting down and curling Fox into his side. “You’ll be okay.” Rex hears Dogma say quietly to Fox, and presses his forehead to his temple.

“Dogma,” General Skywalker says, Dogma pulls his attention away from his commander and looks the general in the eye. “What’s going on?” Dogma’s eyes fall and he takes a deep breath in. 

“The Guard…” Dogma begins, reflexively tightening his grip around Fox’s shoulders, “we… there’s…” His eyes squeeze shut and he tucks his head into his shoulder. “Something’s happening to the Guard, sir. We…we go missing and… sometimes we turn up alive, sometimes they find our bodies, and sometimes we just… disappear. The ones that come back… they’re gone for days—weeks sometimes—and have no memory of what happened.” 

“ _ Ca’kemii’ni _ .” Fox says, fist clenching in his lap.

“Yeah,” Dogma says, nodding at Fox, “we call it ca’kemii’ni—nightwalking.” 

“What do you mean you go missing?” General Skywalker asks.

“Exactly that, sir. We’ll be on patrol or something and then we’re just  _ gone _ .” 

“What happens to the ones that come back?” Rex says, he can’t tear his eyes away from how small Fox looks. He aches to call Cody or Wolffe—they’d always been better with Fox than he was. 

“We… well, another Guardsman finds us, usually—sometimes it’s a civilian, but they…” Dogma squeezes his eyes shut again and breathes out through his nose, “we’re usually in the mid or lower levels. There are times when we’ll just ‘wake up’, I guess—I don’t really know what else to call it,” Dogma huffs and scratches at the back of his neck, “we’ll wake up in the middle of the day and we’ll be doing something completely normal. Like patrol or something… It's never happened to me, but Fox has woken up in the middle of Senate meetings before. You have no idea how you got there or what you’re doing or how long you’ve been gone…” Dogma trails off, eyes downcast and his hand reaches for Fox’s and clasps it tight. 

Rex is speechless. He’d known that something was going on with the Guard—there’d been rumors—and Fox shouting at Cody and telling him to leave him alone so he doesn’t get hurt pretty much confirmed them, but from the look on Fox and Dogma’s faces that’s not all there is.

“What else,” Rex says and watches Dogma’s brow scrunch up momentarily before it smoothes back out. “There’s something else, isn't there?” Rex hears Dogma swallow.

“We…” Dogma begins, before his eyes go blank and his hand starts to twitch, “we…” 

“We get hurt,” Fox says, voice rough from his tears, “those that come back always have some sort of injury or wound that wasn’t there before. Cuts, scars, broken bones…” Fox shuts his eyes and shudders. “Kojo, one of my Lieutenants…” His voice breaks and Dogma grips his hand tight. “They came back with… with autopsy scars.” 

Fives sucks in a breath, “like… like…” he draws the “Y” shape over his chest with his index finger. Fox nods and Fives falls back limp in his seat, a hand pressed to his forehead. 

“How--” General Skywalker stops and clears his throat, “how do you end up with so many injuries?” 

“I don’t  _ know _ .” Fox looks exhausted, Rex notes, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to deepen the more the conversation goes on. Next to the commander, Dogma sighs and the sound catches Rex’s attention. He watches the group's confused expressions for a moment and General Skywalker and Fox go at each other again. 

“How can you not know how you got injuries? Wouldn’t you feel them?” General Skywalker asks and Rex sees Fox puff his chest out in defiance.

Fox clenches his jaw, anger forming in his eyes, “you don’t understand--” 

Dogma stands and removes his abdominal plate and sets it on the small table. The room goes silent as the others watch him. Next, his breast plate comes off and he hikes his blacks up around his chest. There, carved into the skin over the left side of his ribs, in jagged aurebesh, is the word  _ aruetii _ . The scar is a dark pink, still in the process of healing, and the stretch of the skin as he holds his arm up for them to see has him grimacing.

Rex and Fives take in sharp breathes, while General Skywalker just looks at Dogma worriedly.

“I don’t understand—what does it mean?” He looks back at Rex, but he can’t take his eyes off the letters on Dogma’s skin. 

“Traitor,” Fives says softly, “it means traitor.” General Skywalker’s eyes widen, a horror-stricken look on his face as he meets Dogma’s calm, indifferent gaze.

“I didn’t do it to myself,” he explains quickly. Both General Skywalker and Rex remember how Dogma was put on suicide watch after Umbara and were thinking the same thing. “The angle it’s at,” he continues, tracing his finger over the lines, starting low and moving higher up at a diagonal and wrapping around his side slightly, “I wouldn’t have been able to do this.” He looks back up at General Skywalker, meeting his eyes. “You can check my head, sir, there’s nothing.” The general stays silent.

“When?” Fives asks shakily, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Two weeks ago,” Dogma answers calmly, lowering his blacks and putting his armor back on, “one of Commander Thorn’s men found me unconscious in the lower levels wearing just my lower blacks and plates. The blood had already dried.” 

General Skywalker collapses back into one of the arm chairs in the apartment’s small living room, his breathing shaky. “Why…” he looks up at Dogma and Fox, the former returning to his seat. “Why didn’t you say anything? The Jedi--”

“Have more important things to worry about.” Fox says, “and what would they even do, tell the Senate? They don’t even think of us as sentient beings, they aren't going to care that we’re being tortured.” 

“That’s not true, Padmé-- Senator Amidala and Senator Organa… they’ve brought clones’ rights bills to the floor. They’re trying.” 

“And they’ve failed!” Fox spits, his anger boiling over. The general lurches back, hurt written across his face. “I know that most of the Jedi treat their troopers well, and that the civilians you save are thankful for your help. But it’s not like that here! The Senators, the civilians… they all hate us, they don’t want us here. Some… some of them capture my men and torture them, hunt them for sport. Whatever progress you think is happening  _ isn’t _ .” 

They all stare at Fox, red-faced and angrier than Rex has ever seen him, except for Dogma, whose eyes are fixed adamantly on his hands, fidgeting in his lap. General Skywalker makes a croaky, broken sound in his throat and Rex turns to look at him. He’s only ever seen his general look this lost two other times: after Umbara and when Ahsoka left. General Skywalker closes his eyes.

“And… and you don’t have any idea who’s doing this?” General Skywalker asks.

Fox opens his mouth to respond, clearly still angry with him, but Dogma beats him to it. “We do know some things.” He looks back at Fox and gives him a warning glare, which Fives finds amusing if his huff of laughter is anything to go by. “The four battalions in the Coruscant Guard each have different duties. Fox’s does mainly bureaucratic work, like maintaining the prisons and working with the Admirals, Commander Thorn’s does active law enforcement, Commander Stone is in charge of Senate security, and Commander Thire works with the Temple and the Jedi Sentinels. The nightwalking happens most to Fox’s, Commander Stone’s, and Commander Thorn’s men, and not at all to Commander Thire’s. So it’s probably not the Jedi. And out of the three it does happen to, it’s much more common in Fox’s and Commander Stone’s battalions, which points toward someone in the Senate or GAR Command being involved.” Dogma explains, then trails off. “But besides that we don’t know a whole lot…” 

General Skywalker looks down at his hands, brows furrowed in concentration. He looks back up at Fox. “What… what do you want me to do?” He asks and the anger on Fox’s face melts away into confusion. Fox opens and closes his mouth several times, before turning to look at Dogma with creased brows.

“Get the chips out,” Fives says and everyone looks at him. “That’s what you were thinking, right?” He asks Fox. “That whoever is behind this is using the chips to manipulate the Guard?” 

Fox doesn’t say anything, just watches Fives, but Dogma speaks for him. “Yes…” he says slowly, “it’s certainly a possibility.” 

“Okay, then,” Fives says, tone lightening, “We just need to get the chips out. And even if it’s  _ not _ the chips that are fucking with the Guard, we’d still be removing something that can take over our free will—which I’d very much like to keep.” He looks around at the rest of them. “Right, General Skywalker?” 

General Skywalker swallows, “Fives…” he begins, gaze sliding away from him and onto the floor. He breathes out heavily, “I’m not even entirely convinced the chips are real,” he admits, looking toward Rex for assistance, but he averts his eyes quickly. “And I certainly don’t believe that, if they are, the Chancellor has anything to do with them.” Rex winces at General Skywalker’s words, as much as he trusts Fives, this just doesn’t make much sense. Rex isn’t sure how much of Fives’ story is truth and how much was concocted by the drugs in his system. 

“But…” General Skywalker continues, “whatever’s been happening to the Guard warrants further investigation.” He turns to look at Fox, his expression apologetic. A half-hearted smile forms on Dogma's face and he nods toward him, while Fox’s expression doesn’t change. 

“So what do you want us to do, sir?” Fives says, a twinge of irritation creeping into his voice. “You don’t think the chips are there, but you want to figure out what’s happening to the Guard, but the chips might be the reason the Guard’s getting fucked with in the first place…” Fives sighs, exasperated. “Make up your mind, general.” 

Rex’s eyes flick back between his kih’vod and General Skywalker, as do Fox’s and Dogma’s, the latter looking more nervous with each passing second. Then something in Fives’ expression shifts, and he seems to come back to himself. Fives gulps and looks away from General Skywalker.

“Sorry, sir.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Been a long day…” 

“It’s alright, Fives.” General Skywalker says and the conversation stalls.

They all wait quietly for someone to speak up, but none of them want to be that someone. The longer the silence continues the more Fives’ eyes glaze over, which makes anxiety prickle under his skin, but Dogma had said he’d given him something for the drugs.  _ He’s going to be fine _ , Rex assures himself, though it does little to calm him. Dogma seems to be doing something with his finger as he stares off into the space between Fives and Rex. Fox just looks tired and General Skywalker exudes guilt at such a concentration that non-Force Sensitives can feel it. 

Rex sighs, “use me.” He watches as all four pairs of eyes turn to him. General Skywalker leans forward slightly, lips pursed and brow furrowed.

“Rex, what--”

“See if you can find my chip.” He explains, not giving General Skywalker a chance to question him. “If it’s there, you can take it out and analyze it to see if it has anything to do with what’s happening to the Guard.” 

Fox’s eyebrows raise, and Rex thinks he sees a small glint of hope in his eyes. But his face sours when General Skywalker speaks up.

“Rex, I can’t let you do that. It’s too dangerous. And it might not even be there.” 

Fives stands up abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sir, I swear to you that the chips are real. And if anything happens to Captain Rex, then I--” Rex cuts him off with a raise of his hand.

“General,” he says, staring General Skywalker down, “it doesn’t matter if it’s there or not. I don’t want something like that in me. And even if the chips are there for perfectly valid reasons, I would  _ still _ want it removed. I don’t… I don’t like the idea of something messing with my brain.” Rex tries to sound as sincere as possible, but he can’t help the twitch in his shoulders whenever shivers threaten to run down his spine. He’s been trying to keep it in check, but the thought of the Kaminoans putting some mind-control chip in him and his brothers scares him more than anything he’s faced in the war. 

It must work, because after a long moment, he relents. “Okay,” General Skywalker says, chin dipping in a nod. He turns to Fox, “alright, where do we need to go to do this?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a Translations:  
> osik - shit  
> 'ika - a suffix that turns the noun it's attached to into a term of affection/diminutive, often added to proper names to form a nickname  
> vod - sibling/brother/sister, can also be used to mean 'brother in arms'  
> ca'kemii'ni - nightwalking, a construction I made using ca - night, kemir - to walk, and ii'ni - the ending and suffix that forms a gerund (a verb that ends in -ing)  
> aruetii - traitor  
> kih' - prefix meaning little


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3: aka me frantically trying to come up with a reason for ahsoka needing the force to find rex's chip
> 
> Content Warnings: needles, mentions of vomit, medical procedures, general palatine fuckery

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Fives, don’t you  _ dare _ …” 

Anakin stifles his laugh as the car of the droid service shaft the five of them have squeezed themselves into takes another plunge, making both Fives and Rex swear violently.

“ _ Why _ Dogma?” Fives hisses once the shaft has ground to a halt, giving them a short moment of reprieve before taking a sharp turn to the left.

“I’m sorry, but this really is the only way to get to the medbay.” 

The only light in the grimy compartment is that of Dogma’s datapad, shining up into the trooper’s face as he charts their course to the Guard’s secret medbay. Anakin’s stomach sinks, it had been shocking to learn that the Guard’s only access to proper medical treatment is through the Halls of Healing, and that their own medics in the barracks only have access to basic med-stations. Every new piece of information he learns about the Coruscant Guard affirms his belief that the Jedi are failing the troopers. 

The medbay they’re headed to now, technically isn’t even the Guard’s, they’d taken control of it when they’d busted a black market organ harvesting organization. The equipment there had been high-grade enough for Fox to authorize altering the reports so that they could use it for themselves. 

Next to him, Rex groans and tips into Anakin’s shoulder when the shaft stops again. 

“Almost there,” Dogma says.

“Why do we have to come this way?” Rex asks, sounding dizzy.

Dogma spares him a fleeting glance before answering, “the network for the droid service shafts is completely analog, meaning it can’t be traced. My squad uses it to maintain the Guard’s safehouses.”

“You got your own squad, Sergeant Dogma?” Fives asks teasingly from his position in the corner, the most secure Dogma had assured them. He sounds drunk, voice slurred, and his Force Signature is even more out of sorts than when Anakin had first seen him.

Dogma gulps. “Yes?” 

“How unlucky for them.” 

“Quiet!” Commander Fox bites out, speaking for the first time since they’d gotten in the shaft. In the blue glow of Dogma’s datapad, Anakin can see him move closer and place a hand on Dogma’s tense shoulder. He leans in next to his ear, his lips moving, but whatever he says is too low for him to hear.

After a few more drops and turns, they grind to their final halt, the screen on Dogma’s datapad winking out as the door opens. From the smell alone Anakin knows they’re in the lower levels. Dogma gets out first, sticking his head just barely out of the door and looking both ways.

“This way,” he says, waving them to the right as he moves, his footfalls silent. Fox gestures to Anakin for them to leave next, so he helps Rex steady a very dizzy Fives as they exit. Fox follows right behind them as the doors close with a metallic screech that has Fives ducking his head and grimacing. Dogma throws up a halt signal and they all stop moving as an old mouse-droid rolls past, leaking a thin stream of oil behind it. 

The continue until Dogma reaches an inconspicuous-looking door tucked away in an unlit alley, he taps at the control panel beside it for a moment before it slides open. Inside the only light is from the bacta-turquoise panels on the various medical equipment. There's an upright bacta tank shoved in the corner, a de-powered nurse-droid, but what they’re really here for is the surgical machine sitting in the center of the small room. 

Dogma and Fox remove their helmets, the former setting his on the counter along the back wall as he digs through the cabinets above. 

“You sure you want to do this, Rex?” Fox asks, the captain nods, then takes off his helmet.

“If it’s the only way to know for sure…” 

There’s an odd tension that’s been brewing between the two of them since he and Anakin arrived, and it makes Anakin’s shoulders bunch up around his ears, his back muscles going tight. Anxious to get away from the feeling, he takes Fives from Rex’s hold, helping him into one of the chairs lining one wall. 

“Okay,” Dogma says, returning from his search in the cabinets, “your heads already shaved so we won’t have to do anything about that.” In his hand, Anakin can see two syringes filled with blue-green liquid, the color not the right shade for it to be bacta. “This is a short-term anesthetic, it’ll get you under for an hour.” He holds up one of the syringes in front of Rex. “And this,” he holds up the other, “is the anti-anesthetic. I’ll give you this if the procedure’s done before an hour.” 

“Where’d you learn all this medical stuff?” Fives asks, lilted to the side in his chair. Dogma’s face falls.

“Kix was training me to be his reserve medic.” The room goes quiet, even Fox looks away. The quiet lasts for several beats before Rex clears his throat.

“What do you need me to do?” Dogma seems to wake up from whatever daze Fives’ question had sent him into, his back straightening as he looks up at Rex. 

“Just lie back on the table, sir.” Rex nods and does as he’s told, lying on his back on the narrow table that goes into the surgical machine. Dogma comes to stand next to him. “I-I need to remove your vambrace,” he says hesitantly, not quite meeting Rex’s eyes.

“Go ahead, Dogma, do what you need to.” 

He rests his hand on Rex’s vambrace for a moment, before disengaging the mag-clamps that keep the troopers’ armor in place. He takes the two halves and hands them to Fox, who’s come to stand at Rex’s other side. Without a word, Dogma rolls the sleeve of Rex’s blacks up to his elbow and presses his thumb into the crook of it. With his other hand he fetches one of the syringes and presses the plunger in slightly, making some of the liquid squirt out. 

“This might hurt, sir,” Dogma says, before sticking the needle into the vein he’d found and injecting the anesthetic into him. Anakin watches as Rex’s eyes flutter closed, his breathing evening out and his head lolling back. Dogma straightens his head slightly and moves to the control panel. 

“Okay…” he says to himself, his fingers tapping at the panel. One of the surgical machine’s arms whirs and stretches out, it’s photoreceptor blinking on. Dogma looks back at him and Fives, “I’m starting the scan now.” Anakin nods at him and Dogma presses the start button. Immediately the machine starts beeping, the arm moving along Rex’s body as it scans him, the photoreceptor emitting a soft blue light. 

They all watch patiently as the procedure begins. Things grow tense the first time the surgical machine makes an error noise. Anakin looks back at Fives over his shoulder, who’s watching Rex’s unconscious body like a hawk. Dogma frowns, his brow furrowing, and goes to run the scan again. 

“I’m not lying,” Fives says, his eyes not moving from Rex, “it’s there.” Anakin sighs and looks down at his captain. At the machines’s left, Commander Fox sighs, looking worriedly at Rex. Anakin knows that however cold the commander might appear toward him, Rex had been adopted by Cody’s batch, of which Fox is a member, so there had to be some sort of deeper connection between them, no matter who Fox has become since the war began.

Fox groans softly and rubs his forehead, “Fives, are you sure--”

“I’m sure!” Fives shouts, making Anakin, Fox, and Dogma startle. All three of them turn to look at the disgruntled ARC trooper. “I swear it’s there!” His wild eyes meet Anakin’s and he pleads “it took a couple of tries to find mine too, I held the chip in my hand. It’s there,  _ I know it is! _ ”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the drugs?” Dogma asks, which Anakin thinks is honestly pretty fair. But Fives’ face morphs into a snarl. 

“Dogma, I  _ swear _ if you--”

“Hey!” Fox barks, shifting his narrowed eyes between the two troopers, “no fighting.” Fives scoffs and looks away, but Dogma’s face shifts into an expression halfway between shock and indignation. 

“I didn’t do anything!” He protests, then continues at Fives’ responding glare, “it’s a valid question.” Fox raises a hand and Dogma quiets, grumbling. Fox then looks pointedly at Fives, who seems to settle down as well. 

“Let the scan finish before we decide anything.” His gaze shifts to meet Anakin’s and he gives the commander a nod of agreement. 

It feels like agony waiting for the scan to complete. And when the machine lets out a series of beeps, Dogma looks up at him and shakes his head. 

“General, please,” Fives begs before Anakin can even turn around to face him. “I would never lie to you about something like this; I would never lie to you at all! You have to believe me,  _ please _ !” 

Anakin averts his gaze, looking down at the floor. He really doesn’t want to believe Fives, because if this is true, and the troopers  _ do _ have chips in their heads that can take away their free will, then that means that the whole war is a sham for something even worse. And Anakin can hardly stand the thought that the Chancellor, his closest confidant, even more so than Padmé, a man he considers to be one of his closest friends, might have a hand in it. But if it’s not true, he’ll likely have to send one of his best men to be decommissioned for his attempt on the Chancellor’s life. 

It takes all of his strength for Anakin to look back up and meet Fives’ eyes, but before he can speak Fives pulls out his trump card. “If you ignore this, you’ll be killing every one of my brothers.” The words are completely monotone, and they feel like a punch to the gut. Anakin sighs, defeated. 

“Run the scan again.” Dogma hesitates for a moment, before the soft beeping of the machine picks back up. 

Anakin takes a deep breath, turning to look back at Rex’s prone body. He doesn’t know a lot about brains, but he does know that science has not yet come up with a way to make a synthetic one. So, even if the Kamioans had found a way to make the chips look like brain matter, they would still show up on the scan as foreign material. There has to be something more, then, that’s keeping the chips hidden—if they’re there at all. But he’s giving Fives the benefit of the doubt right now, so… 

As the machine continues to examine Rex, Anakin thinks. Grandmaster Yoda has made it pretty clear that he thinks the war is being orchestrated by the Sith as a preparation for some bigger conflict, as Master Sifo Dyas predicted. And many among the Jedi think that it’s possible that, after Master Dyas’ removal from the Council, he’d fallen to the Dark. And if that was true then maybe he had been in league with the Sith when he’d commissioned the troopers. And Kaminoans science combined with the powers of the Sith… 

The Dark is… _ unknowable _ . There are stories in the Jedi Archives of ancient Sith devouring whole planets through the Force, and it had kept Darth Maul alive for a decade after he’d been cut in half by Obi-Wan. The Light seems almost laughably tame in comparison. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility for the chips to be tied to the Dark, perhaps controlled by it even. Anakin feels his brow furrow. This all sounds so absurd that half of him wants to walk right out the door. But when he thinks about it, the whole war seems so fake—Dooku constantly appearing wherever he and Obi-Wan are, like he knows where they’ll be, and then just barely slipping through their grasp. It’s maddening—but maybe that’s the point. The Sith are tricky, devious, they’ve been preparing for this confrontation with the Jedi for generations. Anakin looks down at Rex—maybe the troopers are part of their plan too? 

Taking a deep breath, Anakin moves closer to Rex, standing at his side. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes his hand in his own. Even unconscious, Rex returns the hold, his fingers twitching around Anakin’s. It shouldn’t make him this emotional, but the response makes him tear up. Rex is…one of the last people he has left, it feels like. Ahsoka’s gone, Obi-Wan is distancing himself, Padmé never has time for him anymore. He feels like he’ll crumble under the weight of his responsibilities as a general—as the Chosen One—if he loses Rex. Anakin’s breath shudders on his exhale. Even just the thought of someone turning Rex into a mindless soldier, ready to take orders without thinking, makes anger boil in his chest. 

He reaches out through the Force to him and feels his sleeping mind, Anakin curls his Force Presence around him, basking in the comforting warmth his captain exudes. He prods at Rex’s mental shields gently and they fall away. Now so open to the Force, Anakin can fully feel his fear and worry—for himself and his brothers—his anger at whoever would do this, and Anakin aches to make it right. 

Pushing aside Rex’s emotions, Anakin delves deeper, down to the base functions of his mind. Whatever he’s doing must have an effect on Rex as the machine starts making a different beeping sound. 

“I-I think it’s working…” Dogma says hesitantly. Anakin takes this as a sign to push deeper still, plunging himself fully into Rex’s subconscious. At first glance everything feels normal, or it feels how Anakin assumes a normal mind feels. But as he moves around, taking a closer look, he notices something. It appears as an auditory presence, words muttered too softly for Anakin to hear. He leans closer to Rex, brow furrowing as he listens closer. 

_ “…diers follow orders.good soldiers follow orders.good soldiers follow…” _

All the blood drains from Anakin’s face and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“There!” Dogma exclaims, causing Fox and Fives to join him at the control panel to look. “We got it, general.” He says and Anakin exits Rex’s mind, shaken by what he’d found. He moves back from Rex and leans against the wall, his legs trembling. When he’d felt around Tup’s mind, it’d felt off, but he hadn’t thought…  _ Oh, Tup, I’m so sorry… _

The machine pulls Rex inside, the med-droid cutting into Rex’s head, and Anakin can’t look. It finishes in seconds placing a thick, white bandage on the incision, and Dogma injects the anti-anesthetic stim as soon as Rex slides out of the machine. 

He knows that Fox, Fives, and Dogma are curious to know what he did with the Force, but all Anakin can think about is making sure that whatever that was in Rex’s mind is gone. Rex groans as he wakes, and Fives surges forward to help him sit up, despite being barely able to keep himself stable. His bleary eyes open and find Anakin’s own. 

“General…” 

“Rex,” Anakin says, voice strained. He takes a step toward him, “I-I need…” He raises his arm, reaching for his captain. “I need to make sure it’s gone.” Rex looks at him oddly for a moment, as do the others, but eventually he nods, closing his eyes. 

Anakin steps up to him and cradles his head carefully in his hands. He can feel Rex’s shields drowsily trying to come up, but they’re too slow and disjointed to keep him out. Rex grunts as Anakin travels deeper into his mind, and he sends him calm and reassurance through the Force. When he finally enters his subconscious and finds that that voice is gone, he almost sobs with relief and slumps against him in an awkward hug. Rex shifts him to press their foreheads together. 

Drawing back, Anakin sees the other men watching him with wide eyes. He swallows around nothing. “There… there was something  _ in his head _ . Saying…” Anakin shudders, “good soldiers follow orders.” Both Rex and Fives startle, the latter tightening his grip on the former, as if trying to shield him from the words, and Anakin sympathizes. They sounded wrong—robotic and mechanic—coming from Tup, but hearing them spoken from  _ inside _ Rex’s head will haunt him till the day he dies. 

“What do we do?” Fives asks, looking horrified.

Anakin looks up at Fox and Dogma. “We need to get the chips out of your heads.” Both sets of eyes widen at his determination. “I know where to find it, now,” he assures. “I just need you to let me in, I… I won’t look at anything else.” They look at each other, Fox clearly upset by the notion of letting someone into his head, but Dogma’s pleading expression and his quiet “I trust him” seems to end their discussion. Fox nods and Anakin sighs in relief. 

In truth, it  _ is _ easier finding the voice in each of them this time, much easier. And within a few minutes both of them are awake and chipless. “Do you feel any different?” Fives asks, still clinging to Rex.

“No,” Fox says. Dogma shakes his head, though he does not look up. The commander runs a hand over his newly shaved head. He looks much younger like this, Anakin thinks, with his hair so short it’s hard to see the grey growing at his temples. 

“What do we do now?” Fives asks, but no one has an answer for him.

“We… we can’t stay here for much longer,” Fox says, blinking to clear the fog from his mind, and looks over at Dogma.

“Right,” the other man says, “we should go back to the safehouse.” He fiddles around with the machine, shutting it down, and hands three glass slides to Fox, who places them carefully into one of his utility belt compartments. No one has any protests, so they make their way back to the droid service shaft.

The ride back to the safehouse is silent, aside from the clanging of the car as it moves throughout the network of passageways. There are no complaints from Fives, and Dogma does not mumble to himself as he works—which is something that Anakin is realizing he does quite often. They stumble back into the safehouse, each of them collapsing into the various seating in the apartment's connected kitchen and living room. 

Commander Fox lets out a deep sigh, “we need to call someone, I can’t… I can’t figure out what to do on my own. We need someone else here to help us think.” 

“The 212th is on Coruscant,” Rex offers, “we could call Cody and General Kenobi.” 

“Not Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, shaking his head, “if we tell him, we’ll be telling the Council.” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Fives asks from the armchair he’s slumped into.

Anakin groans, “because… because,” he clenches his jaw, “because we need a plan, this isn’t something we can just run to the Jedi with, I might be impulsive but I know we need a plan.” 

“You don’t trust them.” Fox says, watching him with cold eyes.

“No, I don’t,” Anakin says, sinking back into his chair. “Do you… they didn’t even know Kamino existed.” He barks out a dry laugh. “Do you know how hard it is to miss a whole planet— _ an entire system? _ Madame Nu, one of the smartest people in the galaxy, was not just ignorant of Kamino, she was adamant that it wasn’t there. Despite all the gravitational evidence showing there was a planet. The Jedi… they’re so full of themselves, so stuck in their ways. I guarantee that if we tell them now, they’ll waste time we could be spending removing the chips, debating about what the chips mean and what they should do about them.” 

Anakin feels out of breath when he finishes, the words have been trapped in his chest for so long he feels empty with them gone. He closes his eyes, knowing that Rex, Fives, and Dogma—and maybe Fox, too—are looking at him like he’s crazy. The room stays silent as his breathing calms.

“So… just Cody then?” Rex asks, breaking the silence. Anakin opens his eyes, and just like he’d expected Fives is watching him with a confused expression. But Dogma… Anakin can’t place Dogma’s expression. There’s something melancholy about it, but also like he knows what Anakin’s talking about. Maybe he’s already lost faith in the Jedi, he wouldn’t be surprised, not after what he’d been through with Krell. 

“Yeah, go ahead and comm him,” Fox says. Rex nods at the commander and pulls out his comm.

“We need a medic too,” Dogma says, looking back at the group, who all raise their heads to look at him too. “I-I know how to use the machines and how to stitch people up, but I... I don’t know what any of this means.” He hangs his head, dread and desperation rolling off him in waves. “You should comm Kix too.” 

Rex’s brow furrows, “not one of the Guard medics?” 

“No,” Dogma says, shaking his head. He looks up and gestures to Fives, looking directly at him for the first time since his chip was removed, “not when we still don’t know what to do with him.” 

“Okay, so Cody and Kix,” Rex says, looking to Fox for the commander’s approval, resuming his tapping at his comm when he gets it. Once the message is sent, Rex leans back in his chair, limbs going limp, and closes his eyes. Anakin watches as a single tear falls down into his hairline. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry it took this long to post this chapter, I'm trying to keep myself to a schedule of posting within two weeks of when the last one was published.  
> chapter 4 should be out soon, though, I have over half of it written  
> as always, thank you for reading


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter kix and cody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, well, well look who finally finished writing chapter 4  
> the last like third of the chapter had to be completely restructured and was just in general really hard to write so im super sorry this took so long  
> this is also the longest chapter to date sooo
> 
> Content Warnings: medical procedures, slight mention of blood
> 
> Mando'a translations in the end notes

“ _ …come alone and in civvies… _ ” 

Kix reads the message over dozens of times as he makes his way toward the address Captain Rex sent him. It’s cryptic in a way that Rex never is, and worry gnaws at his stomach the longer he thinks about it. 

The cab pulls to a stop and Kix throws a handful of credits up into the front seat. The address has him in the mid-levels, Kix notes, looking at the plain, modest buildings in front of him. He tries to keep as much to himself as he walks toward his destination, following the directions on his comm, but the civilian clothing he’s wearing—simple dark wash jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt—has him on edge, no vod is ever comfortable out of their plates and blacks. 

As he rounds the corner onto the street where the address lies, Kix catches sight of a man further down the road, clearly trying his best to make himself look inconspicuous, though not really accomplishing it. Kix doesn’t think anything of it until he sees the scar along the left side of the man’s face. A scar that Kix knows well. 

“Commander?” Kix asks before he can think better of it. The man startles and his hands fly to his thighs, reaching for something that isn’t there. Yep, definitely a trooper. The man turns to look at him, tension clear in the line of his shoulders. When he sees Kix, his face pinches up in confusion.

“Kix?” Commander Cody asks. Kix gives a small wave and hurries closer. “What are you doing here?” A lump forms in Kix’s throat; Rex had said to be careful, but he can trust the commander, right?

“Captain Rex commed me and said to come.” 

Cody sighs and looks back at the building they’ve stopped in front of, “you too, huh?” Kix nods. “What did your message say?” He asks.

“He sent me this address and told me to come alone and in civilian clothing.” The commander hums, turning to walk the final steps to the entrance, but doesn’t say anything further. His message had clearly been similar, if his yellow sweater and jeans are anything to go by. “What do you think this is about?” Kix asks, following close behind.

Cody breathes out heavily, “I don’t know,” he says wearily, and Kix chews at his lip. 

“Maybe it’s about Fives?” He suggests, memories of Ringo Vinda surfacing in his mind, next to him, Commander Cody tenses.

“Yeah, maybe.” 

The lobby of the building is deserted, save for the receptionist, and they quickly make their way up the stairs in silence, their conversation having died a quick but brutal death. The commander knocks on the door when they reach it, and, almost immediately, it’s flung open.

“Fox?” Cody questions, staring dumbly at the commander standing before them. For a single, terrifying moment Kix thinks this is a setup and they’re going to be arrested, but then he’s being pulled into the apartment. 

Kix finds his feet only for the world to fall away under them. Standing next to Captain Rex is Dogma. In armor painted Coruscant Guard red with kriffing  _ sergeant bars _ pinned to his breastplate.

Their eyes meet and Kix stops breathing. He doesn’t realize he started walking toward him until Dogma takes a hesitant step back. 

“How…” Kix hears Commander Cody question from behind him. He turns and sees the bewildered look on the commander’s face. Kix looks back at Dogma, who’s straightened and puffed out his chest a little.

“Hello, Commander…Kix,” he says stiffly and gives each of them a small nod. Taking the greeting as an invitation, Kix steps up to him, hand reaching to…do what, Kix doesn’t know. But his kih’vod is here, and that’s all that matters right now. He’s safe and he’s alive and he’s one more vod Kix didn’t lose to Krell and Umbara. But before he can make contact, Dogma catches his hand and forces it down, his expression guarded.

Kix’s brows knit together. “Dogma?” 

The man in question sighs, a sad, distant look in his eyes. “We can talk later, but we have something more important to discuss.” Dogma looks back toward the group behind Kix and he turns to follow it. Sat at a small dining table is Fives. Immediately, Kix notices his dilated pupils and dizzy expression, his blood pressure picks up at the sight.

“Hey, Kix,” Fives says, giving him a small wave, his voice slightly slurred. 

“It’s alright,” Dogma says, and Kix’s head snaps back to look at him, “I already gave him something to clear whatever he was drugged with out of his system. He should be back to normal in a few hours.” 

Kix tenses, “why were you drugged?!” He asks, horrified, spinning back around toward Fives. 

Fives sighs, “it’s a long story.” 

“Then start telling it,” Commander Cody says, coming out of his Dogma-induced stupor. Fives looks up at the commander, eyes grim.

“You might want to sit down for this one, sir.” From Kix’s position he can see how the commander’s brow furrows. He looks like he’s going to question Fives further, but one look from Commander Fox is enough to send him into one of the creaky, plastoid chairs around the table.

“Okay, first off,” Fives begins as the rest of them gather around. Dogma at Commander Fox’s side and General Skywalker sitting in between Fives and Commander Cody. Captain Rex stands behind the general and motions for Kix to take the remaining seat. “The Kaminoans put chips in our heads that can take over our free will.” Commander Cody takes in a sharp breath and Kix feels like he’s choking on air. But Fives doesn’t give them time to process that before continuing, “they say that they’re to ‘inhibit Jango Fett’s more impulsive tendencies,’” Fives does his best impression of a Kaminoan, adding in the air quotes. “But once I got mine out, I got a look at their coding and what they can do…they’re not there to inhibit; they’re there to control. I…I tried telling General Ti, but she wouldn't listen. So I decided to come to Coruscant and tell you,” Fives looks at Rex and the general, “that’s when Nala Se drugged me.” Kix nods.

“How long ago was that?” Kix asks.

Fives purses his lips, “about a day ago, maybe?” Kix’s eyes go wide in shock.

“Heavy duty stuff then.” 

“Yeah, I don’t remember the hyperspace ride…” Fives trails off with an empty laugh. The conversation stalls for a moment, everyone unsure of how to proceed. Even Commander Fox looks uncomfortable, and, from what Kix has heard, that man is unshakeable. 

“You said you talked to Nala Se?” Commander Cody asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes, sir.” 

“She’s one of the head cloners. Did she say anything…give you any information?” 

“No, she stonewalled me at every turn. Kept giving these really vague answers, even General Ti was a little suspicious. That’s what first tipped me off, when…” Fives gulps, “when we first got there, she was willing to answer all our questions, but eventually she just started giving the same ones over and over again.” 

Kix frowns.  _ Are we not mentioning Tup? _ —he wonders. He glances up at Captain Rex, whose eyes are already on him, as if he knew Kix would have questions. Under the table Kix signs T-U-P-? Rex gives a tiny shake of his head and signs back NO, discreetly. That only leaves him more confused, really, and he goes to sign again, but Rex beats him to it. D-O-G-M-A.  _ Oh, _ Kix realizes. Dogma doesn’t know. Kix grimaces internally, he can only imagine how that conversation will go, and he doesn’t envy the vod who has to tell the first trooper to ever kill a Jedi that his last remaining batchmate is the second. 

“So, I get to Coruscant and head to the Chancellor--” 

“Why?” Commander Cody interrupts, and Kix tunes back into the conversation.

“Well, when I was looking at the data from the chips, his name was one that had complete access to them.

“What?” 

“Yeah, it said: Sheev Palpatine. Clear as day.” 

“So you thought you’d kill him?” The commander presses, voice growing harsh.

“No! I was just going to ask him about it, but my mind wasn’t right and things got out of hand. I didn’t mean to try and hurt him, I’m not even sure I really did. Everything’s still really fuzzy.” Fives hangs his head and Commander Cody pinches the bridge of his nose, he opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to say something more, but Commander Fox steps in.

“Ignoring the attempted manslaughter…what else, Fives?” Commander Fox places a hand on his shoulder momentarily, making Fives raise his head. He sighs before continuing. 

“After that, Dogma found me somewhere in the lower levels and brought me here. Then Commander Fox, Captain Rex, and General Skywalker came and I told them all what I just told you. Rex and the general didn’t believe me, but then the commander told us about all the weird shit that’s been happening to the guard--”

“What weird shit?” Commander Cody interjects again, worried eyes flicking up to Commander Fox’s. The other commander just sighs.

“We lose time; days, sometimes weeks. We’ll wake up somewhere on Coruscant with no recollection of how we got there. We all have injuries we don’t remember getting. I’ve come-to multiple times in the middle of a Senate meeting.” Fox looks directly at Commander Cody, who seems to shrink back slightly under his gaze. “Half of the scars on my body I don’t know how I got. And they’re not insignificant either, blaster burns, stab wounds, lacerations, compound fractures…” He trails off, voice growing increasingly wet, and Commander Cody looks away.

“I-I didn’t know…” 

“You didn’t need to.” Fox says quietly.

Cody tenses, “ _ didn’t need to? _ Fox, I’m your batchmate!” He braces his palms flat against the table, the words hissed out through his clenched teeth. 

“ _ Luubid _ , Kote!” Fox says sternly, eyes as fiery as the fur of the animal he’s named for. Commander Cody rears back, expression hurt. Fox looks away, jaw clenched and nods to Fives to continue. 

“O-Okay…” Fives says nervously, eyeing the two commanders. “So after Commander Fox told us about the guard, we all agreed that something weird is going on here and that it deserves further investigation, so Rex volunteered to get his chip taken out. It took a couple of tries with the scanner and General Skywalker found some weird Force shit in his head. When he did that the machine was able to find Rex’s chip so we got it out, then we got Commander Fox and Dogma’s chips out. After that we commed both of you; Kix for a medical opinion on all of this, and you, Commander, to help figure out where to go from here.”

Commander Cody taps his fingers on the table, thinking. “You said the chips are there to control?” Fives hums and nods. “Control what exactly?” 

“Well…” Fives scratches at the back of his neck and doesn’t meet Cody’s eye, “there’s a series of commands—orders—that can make us do specific actions. Some of them are pretty innocuous, like…destroy all communication devices, kill an ally if they’re captured by the enemy to prevent the spread of information, standard stuff like that…”

“Innocuous if you ignore the fact that you’d be forced to do them against your will.” General Skywalker says and everyone at the table looks at him. His arms are crossed tight across his chest, almost like he’s trying to restrain himself. There’s a deep frown etched into his face, his brow furrowed.

Fives clears his throat, “yeah…ignoring that.” 

“And the others?” Commander Cody presses.

“They’re uh…” Fives runs a hand down his face, “they’re bad, sir. Commit suicide, kill members of the Senate, kill your squadmates, and…and kill the Jedi.” 

Kix’s body locks up, he can’t breathe. He takes in big gulps of air, but all that comes out are small wheezes. His vision starts to go dark at the edges. He can’t  _ do this _ again. He can’t watch another vod get taken away for killing a Jedi. But then Rex is there, looping an arm around his neck and pressing his hand to his chest. Kix grabs onto it like a lifeline and allows himself to be pushed into the backrest of the chair. The captain leans down and Kix feels his breath against his ear.

“Stay with me, Kix. I need you to breathe.” He nods shakily. Rex’s hand on his chest is warm, comforting, something he can hold onto—physically and emotionally. When he comes back to himself enough, he can see that Cody’s taking the news badly too. Kix can see the strain in his jaw and the pain behind his closed eyes. Without a word he pulls out his comm and starts tapping at it.

“What are you doing?” Commander Fox asks.

“We need to tell the Jedi about this.” Cody says, not looking up. Fox’s eyes narrow and he reaches across the table and grabs Cody’s wrist. Then he yanks the comm unit out of his hand and slams it on the table, shattering it.“What the kriff, Fox!”

“We are  _ not _ going to be hasty about this.” He says sternly.

“You don’t get to make that decision!”

“And you do!?” Fox says, indignant. 

“Their lives are on the line, they deserve to know!” Cody says, voice getting louder, gesturing with his hand to General Skywalker. The general says nothing, watching the argument between the two commanders with wide eyes.

“We need a plan! This isn’t something we can just figure out on the fly! We can’t run to your  _ Jetii’ka _ to deal with this for us.” Cody’s jaw snaps shut, murder in his eyes as he stares at Commander Fox. At the mention of General Kenobi, Rex's hand flexes on Kix’s chest, and he thinks that Fox’s comment was something that was meant to stay between batchmates. 

“Well, since you’re  _ clearly _ the smartest person in the room, what plan do you have?” Commander Cody’s eyes have narrowed to slits, and he spits the words out between his teeth. 

“We need to get the chips out, the Jedi aren’t safe until we do that.” 

“And the Jedi can help with that!” Cody protests.

Fox growls. “In case you haven’t noticed,  _ Kote” _ , Fox growls, accentuating Cody’s name mockingly, “there are only four clones with their chips removed and you're not one of them.” He jabs a finger into Cody’s chest, forcing him to stay seated, and stares down at the other commander. “There’s nothing stopping whoever’s behind this from activating the chips. If we go to the Jedi and they find out, it’ll be a  _ massacre _ .” 

“They have a right to know--” 

“Oh, so you want to kill General Kenobi, is that it?” All the blood drains from Cody’s face and the room goes deathly silent. Kix can’t tell if he’s angry or afraid. The abrupt halt in the conversation seems to cool every one’s tempers, even Commander Fox seems to settle down. 

“General Skywalker,” Rex says quietly, breaking the tension, “you’re a Jedi, what do you think we should do?” General Skywalker has stayed out of the conversation for the most part, Kix notices, and he seems to wilt at being brought into it. It’s a decision between the lives of the Jedi and the minds of the troopers, and it's clearly weighing heavily on the general. For a moment, he says nothing, staring at his hands in his lap while the rest of them watch him. He threads his fingers together absentmindedly. The general’s eyes shift between each of them, and there’s a sad, uncomfortable look in them when he meets Kix’s.

“Commander Fox is right,” he says with a sigh, raising his head up a little, “our priority right now should be getting the chips out of the troopers. Until that’s done, the Jedi will be in danger whether we tell them or not.” Commander Cody shuts his eyes and lets his head fall, and General Skywalker reaches over and places a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re worried about Obi-Wan, commander, I’m worried too. But I can’t let the possibility of someone taking away your free will stand. Any good Jedi—any  _ true _ Jedi—would feel the same.” 

“I…I thought he died once and I don’t think I can go through that again.” Cody says, jaw clenched. Anakin’s hand falls away, eyes squeezing shut. 

“The…the Hardeen mission was…wrong. They should have told you…and me and Ahsoka. But what happened isn’t your fault. You didn't fail him.”

“How can I protect him if he’s in danger from his own men? How can I keep him safe then?” 

“By getting the chips out.” Fox says, and Cody and General Skywalker both look up at him. The anger on his face has dissipated and the stern mask that Kix has seen on him before is in its place. Cody looks back at the general. 

“You really think this is the best option, sir?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” he breathes and leans back in the chair, “so if we aren’t telling the Jedi what should we do.” 

Commander Fox straightens, “well, our best shot is to find a way to spread the information quietly throughout the GAR without letting the Jedi or the nat-borns know, and then we can--” 

“Wait, wait! Hold on,” Kix interrupts, Commander Fox stops and everyone turns to look at him. “Fives, you said that the med-droid had trouble getting yours out and that General Skywalker had to use the Force for Rex, Commander Fox, and Dogma. Is getting all the chips out even possible?” Kix looks around the table, but one by one the others look away. Commander Fox curses under his breath and holds his forehead in his palm. 

“What about the data the med-droid has from our surgeries?” Dogma speaks up for the first time since they’d sat down.

“What do you mean?” Commander Cody asks, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Med-droids store information from any procedures they do. If the data it has can tell us what the chips are made of and their general location, then they’ll have an easier time finding them. Since using the Jedi or Kaminoan technology isn’t an option.” Commander Fox looks back at Dogma, a proud smile on his face, and Kix can see him flush slightly.

“Kix?” Commander Cody says, turning to him.

Kix lowers his gaze, pouting slightly as he thinks, “that… that’s actually a really good idea.” Commander Fox hums and nods slightly. 

“Dogma,” Fox says, the trooper straightening at the call of his name, “take Kix to the med-droid and see if it’s of any use.” 

“Yes, sir,” Dogma replies, grabbing his helmet off the floor and clipping it to his belt. Commander Fox reaches into one of the compartments of his utility belt and takes out several glass slides and hands them to Dogma. He moves toward the door, gesturing for Kix to follow.

“Where’s the med-droid?” Kix asks as they leave the apartment, quickening his steps to catch up to Dogma.

“Not far,” Dogma says, eyes fixed on the datapad in his hand as he walks—always just a step ahead of Kix. He leads down the hall and then toward some ancient looking elevator, but after several minutes of riding in silence in the darkened car, they finally slow to a stop. Kix can’t help noticing that the entire time, Dogma had refused to meet his eyes and any responses he gave to Kix’s questions were clipped and cold. He can feel the anxiety coming off him in waves.

Kix looks at his younger brother after they exit and he is intensely reminded of how Dogma had looked when he first joined Torrent Company, only a few weeks before the campaign on Umbara—painfully eager to please, yet not fully knowing what the expectations are. It’s clear that he’s unsure of how to interact with Kix, and that, in and of itself, makes Kix’s heart hurt, to think that Dogma doesn’t know that Kix isn’t angry with him, that he doesn’t hate him. Dogma flicks his eyes up to meet Kix’s and the shame and guilt in them makes something in Kix’s chest break.

Kix reaches out, “Dogma--”

“We can’t stay out in the open, c’mon,” Dogma says quickly, cutting him off. Kix’s brow furrows at how scared he sounds. He wants nothing more than to pull Dogma into his arms and squeeze away all the pain and all the guilt that he carries, but Kix knows that Dogma isn’t ready for that.

“Okay,” he says softly, nodding, and follows Dogma as he leads them down a nearby alley. When the door slides open, Kix balks at the state of the med-bay. It’s… not exactly the kind of facility he’s used to. The room is relatively small, with no overhead lights, and Kix thinks he sees streaks of oil running down the walls. 

“We took control of the building from a black-market organ harvesting group, so all of the equipment’s state-of-the-art,” Dogma explains, turning back to face him, seeing Kix’s concern. “Trust me,” he says, then winces at his choice of words. Dogma looks down, fists clenching nervously, “I-I wouldn’t be bringing anyone here if I wasn’t sure it was safe.” 

The furrow in Kix’s brow softens. “Okay,” he says and takes a step forward, “I do trust you.” Dogma’s head snaps up, his eyes wide and fearful, and Kix can hear how his breath catches in his throat. Then, his face falls, the familiar look of guilt in his eyes.

“Kix, I--” 

“Don’t,” Kix interrupts, coming forward so they’re chest to chest. He lays his hands on Dogma’s shoulder-plates. “You said later, so I’ll respect that. But I can’t have you thinking that I’m in any way upset with you for what happened. You’re my vod, and you’re  _ always _ going to be my vod—nothing can change that.” 

When he’d first touched him, Kix could feel the tension in Dogma’s shoulders, but as he spoke he started to relax and, much to Kix’s surprise and delight, raised his own hands to latch onto Kix’s biceps. Kix takes his reciprocation in stride and pulls him into a hug. 

“You have no idea how happy I am that you’re alive.” 

Dogma’s chest shudders on his exhale as he presses himself closer to Kix, burying his head between his neck and shoulder. Kix moves his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing up and down the back of his skull, ruffling the hair a little. Eventually, Dogma moves back, but before he can get too far he pulls him into a Keldabe and just breaths, basking in the warm comfort of knowing that his kih’vod is alive and safe. 

It’s a long moment before they separate from each other. “We… we should get to work,” Dogma says quietly, pulling back. Kix hums and lets his hand drop from Dogma’s neck, slowly opening his eyes. 

Dogma’s already at the surgical machine, and it beeps quietly when he inserts one of the slides Commander Fox had given him. 

“Are those the chips?” Kix asks, stepping up next to him. 

“Yeah,” Dogma says, turning to look at him slightly. He taps the ANALYZE button on the control panel.

“Can I see one?” 

Dogma wordlessly hands one of the slides over and Kix holds it up to the dim lights in the room. On the slide is a thin layer of a pale substance, “it almost looks like a gelatin,” Kix says, squinting. In the center of the material there’s the faint shadow of something more solid. The chip, Kix reasons. Carefully, he peels back the protective layer. It’s sticky and malleable—the right consistency to mimic brain matter—and it leaves a slight residue on his fingers. 

The surgical machine beeps as it finishes its analysis. “It says it’s… carbon-based… mainly agarose…” 

“Makes sense,” Kix says, replacing the protective layer and looking down at the control panel. “Did it take any measurements of your brains?” 

“Uh… yeah, I think so,” Dogma says and begins tapping. “Mhm… brain density and volume.” 

“Okay, can you get me the average location of the chip? Dogma hums in the affirmative and goes back to the control panel. Three diagrams pop up, one of each other their brains, a yellow dot flashes in each of them.

“These are the scans the machine took, the dot is the location of the chip,” Dogma explains, pointing at them. Kix hums, taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’s the right frontal lobe,” he says, “it controls voluntary movement and mental actions.” He pauses for a moment, thinking, and Dogma looks at him, waiting for more instructions. Kix looks back up, examining the diagrams closer. “Can you average these three together,” he says, waving his hand in front of the diagrams, “and get me the exact coordinates of the chip?” 

“Mhm,” Dogma hums. Then, after a moment, “here… its (-27.889, 5.73356, -38.9974).” 

Kix copies the coordinates down into his own datapad. “Is there any other information the med-droid took?” 

“No,” Dogma replies after a moment.

“Okay, all the other tests I want to do on this,” Kix says, holding up the slide, “full chemical composition, MRIs… will have to wait until I get back to the Resolute.” 

“So what do we do now?” Dogma asks, turning toward him. “Take the data back to the others?” 

Kix shakes his head, “no, we still don’t know if this will help.” He looks up at Dogma. “Do you know how to make a surgical template?” 

Dogma stares at him for a moment. “…No?” 

Kix moves forward, lightly pushing Dogma back away from the control panel. “Med-droids come with pre programmed surgeries, but you can also make your own.” He pulls up the form for a new surgery and starts typing in the data. “A few months ago, we were on a relief mission to a planet whose population was being threatened by a major volcanic eruption. We had to take them back to the Resolute for evacuation, and it turned out that a little less than a year prior they had had a big fertility festival and a lot of the women were about to go into labour, so I had to programm our surgical machines to do C-sections.”

Dogma laughs quietly, causing a soft smile to spread across Kix’s face. “I bet that was interesting.” 

Kix groans, “you have no idea. The general was so awkward with the babies, I had to ban him from the med-bay.” Dogma laughs again, a little louder this time, and Kix feels warmth bloom in his chest. Dogma has a good laugh, he wishes he’d gotten to hear it more often. 

Kix finishes filling in the surgical template, checking over the data once more before finalizing it. The machine lets out a series of small beeps before spitting out a datachip. 

“Here we are,” Kix says, turning around to face Dogma, “I input the general composition and the location of the chip, and gave it a 5% margin of error just to be safe.” He flashes Dogma a grin before turning back to the machine. “Now we have to test it.” 

There’s a beat of silence. “…What?” Dogma asks, coming to peer over Kix’s shoulder. He slides the datachip into one of the slots next to the control panel and starts to set up the procedure. 

“We need to do a test run of the procedure to see if it works,” Kix answers. He moves away from the machine and opens one of the cabinets along the back wall. 

“Test is on who?” 

“Me, obviously,” Kix turns to look over his shoulder, having found what he needed. Dogma’s eyes are wide and his jaw has dropped open slightly. 

“You can’t be serious,” Dogma says, incredulous. Kix looks down and rolls up his sleeve.

“I am.” 

Kix holds up one of the syringes, flicking it a couple of times to pop the air bubbles. But just as the needle touches the skin in the crook of his elbow Dogma’s hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him. 

“Kix, you can’t.” There’s a pleading look in Dogma’s eyes when Kix looks up. He doesn’t move the needle away from his arm and Dogma’s grip remains firm. 

“We need to test the surgery, Dogma.” 

Dogma opens his mouth, lips turned downward in desperation, before he snaps his jaw shut. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, looking down at the syringe. “What if you get hurt?” He asks, his hand tightening around Kix’s wrist.

“Dogma,” Kix says, his authoritative tone forcing his eyes up. “I would sacrifice myself a hundred times over if it meant saving the rest of you.” Dogma’s eyes widen, and Kix feels his fingers tremble as he forces himself to let go of Kix. He feels a pang of regret at how harsh he’d sounded as he looks at the dejected expression on Dogma’s face as he backs away. 

Kix sighs, “do you know why I chose you to be my reserve medic?” Dogma shakes his head. “Because if I got hurt, you’re the one I would want to patch me up.” Kix hears Dogma swallow, his throat clicking quietly. Kix sets the syringe down on the countertop, and walks over to Dogma. “Can you do this?” He asks, taking Dogma’s hand and rubbing his thumb along the inside of his wrist. 

Dogma clears his throat, “yeah.” 

Kix nods, grabbing the syringe and sitting down on the sliding table connected to the surgical machine. “The machine will do most of the work, you’ll just have to approve the surgery if it finds the chip.” Dogma nods, but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. 

Feeling around for the vein, Kix injects himself with the anesthetic and lays down on the table. Before his vision fades to black he sees Dogma come up and reposition his head. He nods down at Kix and he lets himself fall under the current of sleep. 

* * *

Dogma anxiously watches as the scanner examines Kix’s head. His hands come together at his front and he begins picking at his nails, causing the wound on his thumb to reopen. Time moves slowly as he waits, his body feeling jittery as he watches. 

But after a moment,the scanner seems to focus in on the right side of Kix’s head, circling several times in the same general location. Dogma steps up to the control panel, hope blooming warm and soft in his chest. Suddenly a warning flashes on the control panel’s screen.

**_ATTENTION:_ ** _!FOREIGN OBJECT FOUND! _

**_REMOVE:_ ** _ YES/NO _

Dogma’s chest heaves as his finger hovers over the YES button. He takes a deep breath and presses it. The machine whirs to life and slides Kix into its inner compartment as the procedure begins. After a minute, Kix slides back out, a white bacta patch on his right temple. Dogma just watches his body for a minute, before he scrambles to get the anti-anesthetic. He fights to still the shaking in his hands as he injects it.

Kix’s eyelids flutter open and he groans as he wakes. Dogma is nearly vibrating in his excitement, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Kix sits up, hand going to rub over the bacta patch.

“Did it work?” He asks, looking up at Dogma from under his brow, his eyes just barely cracked open as he tries to wake himself up. 

Dogma nods frantically, beyond the point of words, and a grin spreads across Kix’s face. He lets out a laugh, tears forming in his lashes, and lets his head fall back down in between his shoulders. Looking back at him, Kix opens his arms and for once Dogma doesn’t hesitate. Kix’s breathing is raspy as he tries to hold in his emotions, and Dogma squeezes his eyes shut.

“We… we need to go tell the others,” Dogma says, out of breath. Kix nods, standing up from the table, feet a little wobbly, and ejects the datachip with the surgical template from the machine. Dogma waits for him at the door, and once the machine has been shut down they head quickly for the droid service shaft. 

With a sigh, Kix leans against the back wall, still a little unsteady on his feet, and seemingly uncaring about the grime sticking to it. 

The ride starts in pleasant silence, but as the near their destination Dogma feels tension grow in his stomach as the thing that’s been eating at him since Commander Fox arrives demands to be noticed. 

At his side, he hears Kix shuffle a little. Dogma spars him a glance and finds him watching him. Dogma quickly averts his eyes, but Kix remains silent. 

The tension in him bursts as they start the last section of the droid service shaft network toward the safe house. Dogma hunches in on himself, forcing himself to speak up. “Hey, Kix?” 

“Yeah, Dogma?” Dogma can feel Kix’s eyes boring into him and he squeezes his own shut. He fights down his nerves.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” He hears Kix turn toward him fully.

Dogma swallows around the lump forming in his throat. “When… when I found Fives… he said something. Something about Hardcase.” 

When Kix doesn’t respond, he looks up at him. Kix’s expression is pained, his mouth forming a small ‘o’.  _ “Oh, Dogma…” _

Dogma squeezes his eyes shut again and forces out the words that have been reeling about his head for hours. “Is… Is he alive?” 

He hears Kix sigh. “The 212th found him a couple days after we left. He’d survived the crash, but he’d been burned really badly.” Dogma grimaces, shuddering at the imagery his mind conjures up. “It took a long time for him to recover, he stayed in the Halls of Healing for a while, but we have him back now.” Dogma feels his throat close up—the Halls of Healing—he’d been so close. “He can’t be our heavy-gunner anymore, but we found out he’s really good at demolitions.” Kix huffs a laugh, and Dogma forces himself to straighten slightly and look at Kix. 

He nods, and feels the rush of guilt coming but he is powerless to stop it. Memories from Umbara rear their heads in his mind—how angry he’d been when Jesse and Fives had come back alone, how betrayed he felt when Tup chose Fives and the others over him—he hadn’t been prepared for how harshly the loss of Hardcase would affect him, nor the sting of abandonment, and he knows that it was why he’d been so willing to execute Fives and Jesse. Dogma’s shoulders shudder as he tries to keep the hot tears in his eyes from falling.

“Dogma?” Kix asks, his voice soft. He lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Dogma lets out a pained gasp. “I-I blamed them.” It’s all he can say as his breathing starts to speed up. He barely registers the car coming to it’s final stop. 

Pushing at his shoulders, Kix forces Dogma to face him. The look in his eyes is hard but sympathetic. “Dogma… it’s okay to be angry with them over what happened. You  _ should _ be angry with them. I still am.” Kix looks down, shutting his eyes. “Jesse… I love him more than anything, but I was so angry when he came back. And we… we aren’t what we used to be. I don’t think we ever will be again.” He trails off, voice growing strained, and his grip on Dogma’s shoulders tightens. 

“You and Jesse… you’re…” 

“Yeah,” Kix says and backs away. “Hardcase… he and Tup, they love you so much, Dogma.” 

Dogma ducks his head, and forces himself not to think about how they’d taken the news of his “decommission”. 

“Do you want me to tell them about you?” 

“No!” Dogma exclaims, head shooting up. He grows sheepish when he sees the shocked look on Kix’s face. What kind of brother doesn’t want to be reunited with his vode? “I-I’m not ready for that yet.” 

Kix’s expression softens, “okay,” he says. They stand there for a moment, long enough for the screen on Dogma’s datapad to wink out, plunging them into darkness. 

“Are you ready to go back?” Kix asks. 

Dogma nods, then, realizing Kix can’t see him, “yeah.” He opens the doors, the metal creaking harshly, and they exit the droid service shaft. Taking the elevator back to the correct floor, the walk quickly back to the safe house. 

Commander Cody opens the door as soon as they knock, and he pulls them into the apartment. Fox, General Skywalker, Captain Rex, and Fives have all moved the furniture to form a small circle in the living room. Their heads shoot up when they enter.

“Did it work?” Fives asks impatiently. 

Dogma and Kix share a look, and he can’t help the small smile that forms on his face. “Yeah, it did?” Kix answers, beaming at the others. They all let out a collective sigh of relief. “Did you come up with a plan?” 

Commander Fox looks up, his mouth pulled into a smirk, “yeah, I think we did.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all dogma did not join torrent right before umbara, if he was a shiny he wouldn’t have had a unique paint pattern, he was in the 501st for at least a few weeks prior  
> I had to relearn how to plot points on a 3D coordinate plane for this, I am a linguist I do NOT do math!!! But for Star Wars I will!!  
> through I do not do math I am a huge science nerd so allow me to explain the brain science behind this chapter. Agarose is the primary component in agar, a gelatin like substance that is made by certain types of algae. I just think that since Kamino is a water world and therefore have a lot of algae, they'd use agar quite a lot.  
> the clothes Cody's wearing is not obi-wan's but it was given too him by obi-wan after he found out that the only clothes Cody has are his blacks and dress greys. 
> 
> Mando'a Translations:  
> vod - sibling, brother, sister, can also mean brother-in-arms  
> kih' - prefix meaning little  
> luubid - enough  
> Kote - glory, popular in Fanon for being the original version of Cody's name with Cody being the transliteration in basic  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> -'ika - diminuative prefix, often used to form nicknames or terms of affection

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! If all goes well I should have the next chapter/other works in this series up soon!
> 
> Mando'a Translations (in order of appearance):  
> di'kut - idiot  
> ad - child/son/daughter  
> Manda - the collective soul or heaven  
> buir - parent/mother/father  
> 'ika - a suffix that turns the noun it's attached to into a term of affection/diminutive, often added to proper names to form a nickname  
> shabuir - motherfucker, combination of the words shab (fuck) and buir  
> vod - sibling/brother/sister, can also be used to mean 'brother in arms'


End file.
